


Mercy Killing

by xDomino009x



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Dark, Death, Depends how you look at it I guess, F/F, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Maybe one way feelings?, Mercy Killing, Murder, Violence, Wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 09:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDomino009x/pseuds/xDomino009x
Summary: She's cornered, her team is too far away and she's losing blood fast. Even the healer can't fix everything





	Mercy Killing

**Author's Note:**

> Okay before we begin let me be very clear. I am the Worst, I am hurting them and I'm sorry but not sorry but still kinda sorry?  
> I'd say enjoy but...

Angela coughed as the man stood over her, black smoke billowing from beneath his coat as he watched her bleed out. A shotgun wound she could have dealt with, dragged herself to the nearest cover and waited for the golden formula currently circulating her bloodstream to kick in. But this was different. There was something deadly to the wound that had her breaths faltering with every second drag of air she took.

She looked at the blade on the floor, covered in her blood, and winced as she tried to sit upright. Reaper laughed above her. She was as good as dead already and he knew it. She knew it too, all too well. Her medicine could deal with flesh wounds and blood loss, could repair broken bones and regrow tissue in a pinch.

But there was only so much it could do, and protecting her from the poison in her blood was not one of those things.

She coughed again, blood trickling from the corner of her lips. Reaped chuckled and kicked her headset back over to her across the ground. “Any last words for you team, Doc?” he asked, his gravelly voice full of malice. He was enjoying this. 

Angela tried to calm her breathing and picked up the headset, holding the earpiece a little away from her face and listening to Lena’s frantic calls. The girl shouted her name over and over, promised she’d come help her soon. They’d be right there, she promised, right there. Angela laughed, the sound strained against the burning in her chest, and closed her eyes for a moment. They wouldn't be here soon enough. Already her fingers were going numb; she could barely hold the headset.

She terminated the connection between herself and the other members of Overwatch, changing the frequency of her headset to another. One she had stumbled upon once, memorised but never used.Overwatch knew, even though they had other ways of spying on Talon. They didn't need this one too. Didn't need to violate the privacy of a woman who had already been violated by so many, herself included.

“Amélie?” she whispered into the mouthpiece, trying and failing to put the headset over her head. Her hands were so clumsy, her arms too heavy. She tried again, in time to hear the hiss of the woman’s voice trailing off. “Amélie, that’s you.” It wasn't a question.

The french that came back to her was a jumble of curses and exclamations. She caught a few of the words through the haze that was settling over her mind. “Please don't go. I don't… want you to leave me again.”

Reaper looked down at her and cocked his head to the side. He knew exactly who she was talking to, could hear it clearly in his own earpiece. He said nothing, just listened to what Amélie might reply with as though he was amused at the whole situation. And why shouldn't he be. He’d done his job, he’d got rid of the healer for Talon. Now all that remained was to let her bleed out.

He’d watch, of course he’d stay for the show. She’d done far worse to him.

“Mercy.” Widowmaker’s voice was emotionless. It hurt, but Angela supposed there were more pressing things for the sniper to worry about, like why an Overwatch medic was using the frequency for her comm channel.

“I’m sorry,” Angela whispered. “I’m… for everything.” She coughed again, crying out a little as her body tensed and pain seared through her body. She looked down at the golden strands in blood spilling out over her armoured suit. For a fleeting second she debated how she could fix it, make it more resistant to damage. But it was useless wasn't it, now anyways. Her blood reminded her of an oil spill, the pretty colours in the water.

Widowmaker didn't reply for a long while. The doctor began to think she’d gone, cut off the link. But then, “Angela?” There was something to her voice, something that drew a deep chuckle from the dead man standing over her. Angela was too out of it to register the concern in the woman’s voice. She hummed, a sign she was still there.

But she wouldn't be there for long.

“Do you remember when we’d get coffee?” she asked, not expecting an answer. It took a lot of energy just to speak and not let her voice fade away into less than a whisper. Breathing was really starting to hurt, each breath like the knife was finding its way back into her side. She glanced at it again and let her head fall back hard against the wall she’d been propped against. Reaper told her he’d wanted to good angle. He’d remember this day.

The assassin replied with a curt, “Oui,” and nothing more. Angela smiled and closed her eyes again.

“You had cinnamon. Always… same drink.” Above her Reaper growled and toyed with the safety of his gun. Angela was under no illusion that he wouldn't pull that trigger if she took too long. He wasn't leaving her for Overwatch to find. Not alive anyway.

If Widowmaker answered that Angela did not hear. She couldn't hear anything, not even the static that had whispered down her ear the entire time the headset had been in place. She rambled instead of waiting in the silence. “I’m sorry Amélie. Been better, Should have… been better.” There was the concern again as Widowmaker spoke, but Angela did not recognise the words. They were foreign to her. Her own name was foreign to her. She apologised over and over again, her voice growing softer and softer.

“He loved you Amélie. Like… loved you like I did” She choked on her words as she tried to speak, spattering her hands with blood as she brought them to her mouth. The pain was unbearable now, but she barely had the energy to show it.

Angela waited. She couldn't speak any more. Nothing would come, even though she moved her lips. Sometimes a breath would almost form a word, other times it just made her want to vomit as the pain spread from her chest and out through her entire body. Other than the pain, there was very little she could feel now. Even her broken wings digging into her back didn't feel so bad anymore. It was almost peaceful. Just quiet, with the pain and the gun level with her chest to keep her company.

“Gabriel,” Widowmaker muttered through the headset, “Please, Gabriel.”

The mercenary nodded and clicked the safety off his gun. He crouched down so he was eye level with the doctor. Her eyes faded in and out of focus, looking between him and the gun and somewhere in the middle-distance over his shoulder. Tears fell down her cheeks. He laughed. She was pitiful. 

“As you wish.”

 

The shot rang out loud and clear through the deserted streets, littered with bodies. 

Widowmaker turned her back on the sight that had brought her pleasure just a moment ago. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please feel free to leave feedback down in the comments!


End file.
